


A Delicate Gravitational Balance

by gremlinpolice



Series: Celestial Bodies [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dirty Talk, Explicit Consent, F/M, Hogwarts Sixth Year, Oral Sex, Ravenclaw, Riding, Slytherin, let draco fuck 2020, like two people talked me into making this a series, slight praise kink, this is a damn mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:09:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26433163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gremlinpolice/pseuds/gremlinpolice
Summary: You hadn't heard from Draco in nearly two weeks. You had begun to give up the thought that you ever would, really, and that that would be alright. Maybe the planets hadn't aligned for the two of you, that what you felt laying there in the dark alcove as your fingers carded gently through his hair, as you breathed in and out together. You had chalked your impulsiveness up to the stars, and now that your head was clear you had seen what a reckless decision it had been.But that was when you thought he didn't want to see you again.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Reader
Series: Celestial Bodies [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1921249
Comments: 14
Kudos: 163





	A Delicate Gravitational Balance

_Boathouse. Midnight_

"Who's that from?" Padma asks absentmindedly, munching on her morning toast in the Great Hall. The note had just dropped into your lap-- you hadn't even seen the bird it came from-- but still, you knew. 

"My Aunt Paula," you lie, "She wants to know the next time I'm coming to visit, she gets lonely all the way over in Stirling." You didn't have to keep going, Padma didn't care, but you found yourself so shaken you didn't really know when to stop.

_Midnight._

You flush.

"You alright?" Padma's voice pitches higher, her brows knitting together, "You look like Grant after he took that bludger to the--"

"I'm fine," you interrupt, pinching the bridge of your nose, "I- I've got a stomachache is all, I'm going to see Madam Pompfrey." You stand abruptly, nearly knocking over the full glass of pumpkin juice in front of you. 

"Do you want me to come? I've a free block this morning," Padma offers sweetly, popping the last bite of her toast into her mouth. She really was a good friend, but just not what you needed right now.

"No, no it's fine, I'll only be a minute and then I'm helping Firenze with the Fifth years, and then I-" You stop, holding your stomach as if you might be sick. Padma's eyes widen and she sits down.

"Fine, yep, go, I'll be here," She motions toward the door, her own face turning a little pale at the prospect of seeing you sick. Padma had a famously weak stomach, which got quite annoying when you went to parties, but in this instance you were thankful for your friends misery. 

On your way out, you scan the Slytherin table and spot Draco sitting with his usual band of cohorts; Crabbe across from him, Goyle to his right, and Pansy practically sitting in his lap. You roll your eyes as he meets your gaze, following you as you stride through the Great Hall and wriggling out of Pansy's grip, batting her hands away. You turn away, smiling to yourself, though you're not quite sure why.

You hadn't heard from Draco in nearly two weeks. You had begun to give up the thought that you ever would, really, and that that would be alright. Maybe the planets hadn't aligned for the two of you, that what you felt laying there in the dark alcove as your fingers carded gently through his hair, as you breathed in and out together. You had chalked your impulsiveness up to the stars-- your Mars had been in Aries anyway, and now that your head was clear you had seen what a reckless decision it had been.

But that was when you thought he didn't want to see you again.

_Midnight._

You shut the door of the empty classroom behind you-- if you could really call it a classroom. Firenze's classroom was a lush, green, forest, the walls lined with towering trees that seemed to break through the ceiling, exposing the night sky above. Soft sounds of insects, magical and otherwise, played in the air, and you could swear you felt a gust of wind. You let out a shaky breath, dropping your schoolbag on the ground and laying down beside it on the pillow-soft grass. This was your happy place. This is where you could finally let yourself think.

"Good morning, my friend, what brings you so early?" Firenze enters the room, his voice seeming to warm the air and make all of the living things in the room come alive-- except for you.

You shut your eyes tight, letting out a deep sigh before standing to face him. He was one of your favorite professors, and it wasn't his fault that he had intruded; it was his classroom, after all. The centaur smiles at you, a look that always seemed to bring you peace, contentment. It was as if he was imparting wisdom on you in a glance, even if you didn't know what that wisdom was yet.

"Good morning, Firenze. I was just taking a moment to prepare for class this morning. It's already been so busy," you tell him. He nods sympathetically, casting his gaze to the charmed sky above you.

"I understand. When life becomes hectic I too find solace in the healing magic of nature. The trees and the wind do not know anxiety, and so why should we?" He muses, reaching up to touch the leaves of a young beech tree. You chuckle.

"The trees and the wind don't have three assignments due for Professor McGonagall by Monday" you joke, and Firenze laughs, a strong, hearty laugh that you can feel in your bones. 

"No, I suppose that they don't," he admits, "but we can still learn from them. Their existence is not tied to essays and spellwork, and yet they are still beautiful and worthwhile simply because they _are_. That is a lesson I find that most humanfolk cannot grasp, at least not until it is too late." He smiles again, but this time it is sad, melancholic. 

"I hope I can learn it soon enough, then," you resolve. He is right, even if his poetic waxing can sometimes grate on the listener; they are not without their merit. You hear the creaking of the door, and the chatter of students behind you.

"I hope you do as well. Now come, our work begins." 

_Midnight._

You decided that you would meet Draco. Firenze was right; a thing didn't have to be important for it to be worthwhile. And you found that your time with Draco behind the tapestry was _very_ worthwhile indeed. You decide not to dwell on the fact that your Divination professor unknowingly convinced you to (probably) get shagged tonight. 

The Ravenclaw Common Room was empty by 11 o'clock that night; there was a quidditch match verses Gryffindor in the morning, and Ravenclaw had an _extremely_ dedicated cheering squad (lead by Luna Lovegood), not to mention the Potion for Dreamless Sleep you snuck in to Padma and Mandy's evening pumpkin juice. 

No, there was no one awake to see you sneaking out after hours-- though Anthony Goldstein had made a brief appearance to collect a book he had left just as your were about to leave-- and you were home-free. You had done your fair-share of sneaking about the castle at night, mainly to study the stars when the Astronomy tower had a class, or when you just couldn't sleep and wanted to take a walk. Your motives this time, though, were decidedly more exciting. 

After almost being spotted by the Hufflepuff prefects in the dungeons, you had made it to the boathouse, a dismal shack under the castle. A mist rolled in off the Black Lake, adding an eerie air to the atmosphere. You hadn't been here since you were a first year; experiencing the wonder of seeing the castle for the first time, and then being plunged into the darkness of the cave that seemed to wind miles underground. But now, you could see the moon glinting at the mouth of the cave, casting shadows on the mist as you made your way to the shore.

The door creaks loudly as you push it open, and you wince at the sound, praying to your lucky stars that you truly were alone down here. Well, not completely alone.

"Draco?" You whisper into the darkness, your voice echoing off of the walls and the inky black water beneath you. Each step you took earned another groan from the old wooden boards underfoot, and you thought for a moment that the whole structure might collapse around you. You pull your wand from where it's tucked into the waistband of your skirt.

" _Lumos_ " You mumble into the darkness, a faint light emanating from the tip of your wand.

"You're here."

That voice made you freeze in your tracks as a tall figure steps out from the shadows a few meters in front of you, silhouetted by the silver moonlight.

"Very astute," you mumble, extinguishing the light and returning your wand to its place, your eyes adjusting to the strange lighting, finally seeing his face, "You're here too."

Draco smirks, shrugging out of his robes and adjusting the sleeves of his white button-up shirt, as if waiting for you to initiate something, anything. You roll your eyes. 

You watch him move toward you in the darkness and pull out his wand, " _Muffliato_ " he whispers, and you recognize it as the charm from last time, the one he said made it so people wouldn't hear you. You'd have to remember that one.

"I don't suppose you'll tell me why we're meeting in a rickety shack in the middle of the night? It is possible to have a conversation with someone during the day, you know." It came out a little more harsh than you intended, but you weren't lying; the sneaking around, the creepy location, it was all a bit dramatic.

"You know me," he starts, moving to put his hands on your shoulders. There's a chill in the air, and you shiver at his touch. His hair is glowing in the moonlight.

"No, but I don't really care," you whisper, wrapping your arms around his neck and drawing him in close to you.

"You don't care? Interesting," He leans in, pressing uncharacteristically soft kisses to your jawline, up to the shell of your ear as his hands rest on your waist, "I thought showing up meant that you did care." You revel in the feeling of his lips on the skin of your neck, teasingly sweet as his fingers worked the buttons of your blouse. Draco was under the impression that this would be easy for him. 

"Oh no, showing up just means that I'm up for a shag, not that I care about you." He sucks hard on your pulse point and you suppress a strangled whimper, but he hears anyway.

"Funny, if I didn't know you any better, I'd say you were trying to hurt my feelings." He pushes your blouse from your shoulders, pulling it away from your body and depositing it on a crate alongside his robe. 

"And what do you know about me?" You counter, trying to sound as unbothered as you possibly can as he resumes kissing and biting at any skin he can reach, laving across your bare shoulders and chest.

"Oh, plenty," he smiles, almost innocently, "I know what professors you like," _suck_ "who your friends are," _nip_ "and how to make you come." He slides his hands around your torso and reaches for the clasp of your bra, undoing it with a relative ease you hadn't expected, considering the few men in the past that had made it this far. At his touch, a warmth blossomed within you, despite how cold his hands were against your bare breasts. 

Draco presses his lips to yours, and you are brought back to the way that you felt in that tiny alcove when he had kissed you the first time, that spark of _something_ that you just couldn't ignore. It was more than just sex, it was a connection. It was as if your stars had aligned at just that moment and everything made sense. It was a feeling you couldn't get enough of. 

Maybe it was going to be easy for him, but it was easier for you.

With a gentle push, you have him up against the wall of the boathouse with a menacing quake that you can't bring yourself to acknowledge. You press yourself flush against him, and he groans at the contact, wrapping strong arms around your waist.

You pull away sharply. With eyes still closed, his face puzzles in confusion. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to find out what makes you come." He swallows a moan as you kiss your way down his neck, undoing the top button of his shirt and kissing at each new patch of skin revealed. 

Marveling at the way Draco shivers under your touch, you have to wonder if no one has touched him like this before, this tenderly at least. 

When his shirt is completely open and your nose is level with the button of his slacks, you reach for your wand again, tapping your head twice so your hair is pulled back into a rather messy ponytail-- you usually can do better, but your concentration is divided at the moment. You hand him your wand and he places it on the crate with your clothes as you work at the buttons of his trousers. 

"You- you really don't have to," he mutters nervously, panting. Draco Malfoy, breathless? Nervous? How many others could say that they had accomplished such a feat.

"Oh, I know," you assure him, pulling his trousers and briefs down his legs, his cock nearly hitting you in the face as he kicked off the slacks, "but I really, really want to. Do you want me to, Draco? Because if not, I'm content to put my clothes back on and we can have a proper cha-"

"Blimey, fuck yes," he groans, placing a hand at the back of your head, not to push, but more to ground him. 

So you oblige.

Stroking his length languidly with one hand, you press your lips to the tip, working your tongue over the head before taking as much of him in your mouth as you can. You bob your head up and down on his cock for a moment, adjusting to his size, before doing your best to swallow him down. 

_"I wonder how you'll sound after my cock has been down your throat; how hoarse, how pretty you'll sound then."_

"Fuck!" He gasps, grabbing a fistful of your hair, using the dull ache at your scalp as a perverted way to gauge how well you were doing. 

You hum in response, and he shudders beneath you as you pull off of him, loosening his grip on your hair. He gasps for a moment, holding you away from him while he recovers.

"That," he starts, still a little breathless, "was positively wicked. If you want me to fuck you at all, though, we should move on. You do want to get fucked, don't you?" He purrs, pulling you to your feet. 

Wiping your mouth on the back of your hand, you purse your lips coyly, "I suppose, if you're offering." He does not like that.

His grey eyes darken, glinting in the scant moonlight, and he reaches behind him for his robe. laying it down on the floor. Draco's chest swells as he steps close to you.

"You will be begging for my cock by the time I'm done with you," he whispers coldly in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine, but you're not ready to play along just yet.

"Is that a promise?" You tease, standing your ground. An intense look overtakes his features, one that would scare you if you weren't already so turned on. With surprising strength and speed, he picks you up, causing you to yelp as he deposits you on your back, laying you down on his robe. You can barely push yourself up on your elbows when he's on top of you, taking one of your nipples in his mouth, fingers dragging lazily down your body.

"A guarantee."

His touch feels like Fiendfyre on your skin, the scorching heat going straight to your core as he works, licking and biting his way down your body until-

"Fuck!" you cry out as he bites sharply at your hipbone. You look down and your skirt is gone, he had probably taken it off at some point, but your head had been spinning since the moment your back hit the ground so you really had no idea. It would have just gotten in the way, anyway. 

"No knickers?" Draco asks, gazing up at you. His chin rests on your lower stomach, dangerously close to the heat building there, screaming for more, "So you were expecting this?"

"Well, I figured. After last time, they would just get in the way," you reason, doing your best to keep your breathing even, controlled. You were failing.

"Why wear any clothes at all, then?" He smiles, grabbing your legs and moving them to rest on his shoulders. His shirt hung open, giving you a nice view of his muscled chest and torso, and you silently thank wizard god for the gift of quidditch. _Merlin_ this boy was going to be the death of you. He mouths lightly at your inner thighs, teasing you.

Why wear clothes, indeed. "I don't let just anyone see me like this, you know. I've got to maintain some semblance of mystique," you reason, running a hand through his hair as his lips travel closer to your center, fueling your need for any contact that would give you some relief.

"So I'm special?" He's incorrigible, honestly, as he grins up at you, maddeningly. What you wouldn't give to have that pretty mouth buried between your legs; and he was so close...

"Merlin, if I say yes will you _touch_ me?" You moan breathily, head falling back, "You're special, Draco, you're so special, you're a perfect, amazing sex god, you're- fuck!" 

You shriek as he laps at your clit, effectively putting an end to your lips singing his praise. Even if it was partly sarcastic, it spurred him on; Draco had gotten what he wanted from you, and now you were getting what you wanted from him-- and _Merlin_ did you want it. 

Winding your fingers in your hair, you are significantly less gentle then he was when you were sucking him off, grinding yourself against his mouth-- that beautiful, sinful mouth. He chuckles against you, a sound you don't hear as much as you _feel_ , reverberating deep in your core, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. 

His long fingers tease at your entrance while he sucks your clit, a maddening combination that has you seeing stars. You couldn't hold out much longer, not when he hadn't even fucked you yet, and the way he was moving against you, while it felt divine, was far too slow to make you come. You let out a ragged breath, and know what you need to do.

"Please, Draco, please- fuck!" 

"Please what?" He looked thoroughly too pleased with himself, but you just didn't care. His lips were shining, wet with your juices, and his hair was sticking out every which way from the way you had pulled at it. He was beautiful.

And he was right, you were about to beg Draco for his cock. 

"Please, just fuck me, please," you beg, voice hoarse and breathless. He crawls his way up your body on his hands and knees, his eyes wide, taking all of you in, flushed and breathless beneath him. He guides one of your legs to wrap around his hip and kisses you, almost sweetly. Draco had his moments of tenderness, and you caught glimpses when his guard was down. You liked it, when he looked nervous, when his touch lingered a little too long on your skin, when he kissed you like _that_. But that wasn't what either of you needed right now.

"Well, since you asked so nicely..." he trails off, pulling away from you and grabbing for his wand, casting a protection spell. You roll your eyes, wrapping one arm around his neck and the other reaching to grab his ass, pulling him flush against you. 

"Last chance," you mimic his words-- as if either of you had any doubts about what you wanted. Maybe things would change tomorrow, or next week, but right now the only thing either of you wanted was each other. 

Draco smirks, shaking his head, "You're insufferable, you know that?" he breaths on your neck, pressing wet, messy kisses to your pulse point. All this and he's _still_ not inside you.

"And you're stalling," you growl, bucking against his, hissing at the friction. His head drops to your chest and groans, hand dropping to his cock, angling his hips so that when he _finally_ pressed forward-

"Yes!" You groan as he fills you. The stretch makes you hiss, but you were so wet that he was able to sheath himself in you with no resistance. The pace was slow, but each thrust was hard and deliberate as he ground into you, your hands scrabbling at the shirt on his back for purchase. 

He's propped over you on one elbow near your shoulder. With that hand, he cradled the back of your head so that you wouldn't hit it on the hard wooden floor with each delicious, purposeful motion of his hips on yours. His other hand had found its way between your legs, thumb circling your clit, and you took another moment to whisper your thanks to the stars for the gift of quidditch. 

"Please, please please," you murmur, not quite sure what you're asking for, breathy moans punctuating each word. Draco smirks, biting his lip as if to hold back his own cries and swearing softly under his breath. Now that just won't do.

"Please what?" he whispers in your ear, drawing out of you almost completely, making you gasp. 

It's your turn to smirk, regaining some composure as you lean in close to his face. "Please," you start, kissing him softly on the cheek, "get on your back."

Draco's sweet silver eyes go wide, he looks shaken, but he obeys your request. He rolls onto his back and you straddle him immediately, running your hands up his torso, just _feeling_ him beneath you. 

You are not as teasing as he is, and sink yourself down on him in one swift movement. You sigh at the feeling, but Draco lets out a beautiful, low moan, so loud that you hope his silencing charm is holding up. That's better.

Experimentally, you roll your hips against his and _Merlin_ it feels good, and Draco throws his head back, nearly whimpering. You had Draco Malfoy _whimpering_ underneath you, and you wouldn't have it any other way. 

Starting slow, you ride him with zeal, relishing in the pretty noises that fall out of his mouth with each movement of your hips. He props himself up on one hand, using the other to hold you close to him, bucking up into you. You know that both of you are close, so painfully close, and the anticipation is climbing higher and higher.

It's not long until your hips lose their focus, moving directionless and desperately chasing your release. Draco puts his hands on your hips as you move, squeezing lightly.

"Look at you," Draco breaths, and you can see the sheen of sweat shining on his forehead in the moonlight, "fucking yourself on my cock," his eyes darken as he rolls his body into yours, and you can feel how agonizingly close you are, "you're so beautiful."

You don't remember the last time someone had called you that.

Draco wraps his arms around you as you come, the pleasure stealing your breath away as it ravages your body, as he ravages your body. It's as if his hands and lips are everywhere, and for all you know they are because all you see are stars. 

He comes soon after you, using your pliant body as an anchor; he holds you so tightly you wonder if he might float away when he lets go. He doesn't, of course, but you've learned that anything, absolutely anything, is possible in this world.

Breathless and wordless, you pull off of him, collapsing onto his heaving chest. Draco scrambles for his wand, discarded somewhere beside you, and mutters a cleansing charm before dropping it again, wiling it not to roll between the floorboards and into the inky darkness below.

For what feels like hours, it's silent, nothing but the sloshing of lake water and your combined breathing.

"What do you want to know?" he asks, running his finger through your hair. What do you want to know?

"I'm not sure, to tell you the truth," you start, and ignoring you impulses and everything you had decided earlier, "I guess I want to know what you want out of, well, this," you mumble sleepily, though you are far from being able to sleep, "If you just want sex, that's perfectly fine, but that wouldn't warrant the theatrics. Not to mention the fact that you don't need to come to me, you could have almost any Slytherin you could dream of." He laughs dryly, "So I don't think it's just that. Sure, the sex _i_ _s_ good, but you and I both know that we have more to offer each other than a quick shag." You cast your gaze upward, your chin resting at an awkward angle on his chest.

Draco reaches his arm to rest it behind his head, eyeing you suspiciously, "And what else would we have to offer one another? I don't need my star chart read, and you don't need to be dragged into-" his eyes darken and he stops, "you don't need a potions tutor." 

"That's the part that makes the sex so good, Malfoy. We can offer each other a connection, a confidant, a kindred spirit. You can't tell me that you don't feel it too." Draco begins to protest, "I'm not saying we have to start dating, or that I want you to meet my parents, more like... be a friend, someone else who understands."

Draco turns his head to look at the moon, still just visible at the mouth of the cave, illuminating his features handsomely. 

"Friends..." he repeats dubiously, as if the word is foreign to him. You wonder how many friends he's actually had. "I can be friends." He resolves, and you smile. 

He did feel it too.

"Good," you laugh, patting his cheek, "because if you are going to be my friend, I am definitely going to read your star chart."

**Author's Note:**

> hello welcome to the shitshow  
> i am still the comma queen, but i think it's time i add /italics abuser/ to that title as well
> 
> it's honestly very uncharacteristic of me to write this much and consistently in the same week so this is a treat but i've been inspired (thank u tiktok) so you might just be gettin lucky
> 
> also i know very very little about astrology but im trying to learn so advice is welcome and appreciated
> 
> enjoy responsibly~


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